---
Swain looked at the young gladiator he had chosen with interest. He hadn't planned to recruit anyone today, nor even to come to the arena, as he found the events there unappealing.
But he had business to discuss with General Du Couteau and was attending the execution of deserters from his legion. Normally, this wouldn't interest him, especially since they were mere peasants facing the execution.
"Uninteresting," Swain muttered to himself, but something caught his attention: a young, black-haired man among the group of slaves who quickly gathered and commanded the others. Most wouldn't have noticed, but Swain saw that the young man's greatest feat was not just leading, but pretending to be weak.
Even Swain had been fooled into thinking that, despite speaking several languages, the boy was just a peasant. But that changed when he held his sword.
The old general had seen everything and could tell that, while clever, this man knew how to wield a sword. The Noxian gladiators had failed to notice this in time.
Another surprise followed when a trail of fire extended from Mark's sword. "A mage," Swain muttered as several thoughts crossed his mind.
By appearance and linguistic skills, he was sure Mark wasn't an ordinary peasant, but his magical abilities confirmed his suspicions. Having someone already educated and full of potential in his ranks wouldn't hurt.
Magic held a special significance in Noxus. Mages were considered the greatest weapons in the Noxian army, capable of changing the course of battles involving thousands of soldiers with a single move.
Mages were also treated very well, as their lineage could pass down their magic. Being a mage in Noxus was essentially a ticket to a privileged life.
Unfortunately for Mark, having a good life with Swain would be difficult, but it was better than going with Elise and becoming fodder for the evil spider god.
Swain had already decided to pull Mark to his side when he demonstrated magic. However, when Mark showed a knack for politics among the nobles, Swain had some additional thoughts.
---
**Later that day.**
Mark, Nobu, and old Soo left the arena, now well-dressed and clean. The three wore Noxian attire, a blend of black and red with a military design.
"I feel like an anime protagonist now," Mark thought as he looked at his new outfit. He wore a black coat with red lines, which, combined with his looks, made him easily mistaken for Noxian nobility.
Outside the arena, Mark caught sight of Noxus—the Immortal Bastion—the most heavily guarded city on the planet. Whether it was due to the ash from the forges or the city's dark color scheme, the sky above Noxus had a blood-red hue.
"Sir Mark, please follow me; Master Swain is waiting for you." What appeared to be a butler, with white hair yet an extremely professional demeanor, approached the trio, and Mark noticed a row of carriages ahead.
Nodding, Mark followed the butler and instructed Nobu and Soo to come along with the guards outside. The butler, seeing this, nodded in approval as they approached Swain's carriage.
"My name is Sebas, Sir Mark. If you need anything, just call me."
With those words, Sebas left Mark in front of Swain's carriage door and moved to the front to guide the horses. Mark took a deep breath before gently knocking on the door.
"Come in," a deep voice called from inside the carriage. Mark opened the door, entered carefully, and bowed to Swain, who nodded with satisfaction.
"You seem well-versed in Noxian customs," Swain remarked, gesturing for Mark to sit on the seat across from him.
The carriage was quite spacious, with two seats on either side and a table in the middle filled with important documents that Swain was constantly reviewing.
"I simply learned from observing, sir," Mark replied humbly. The two remained silent for a moment before Swain handed him a book. Instinctively, Mark noticed it was written in Shuriman script.
"These automatic translation skills are definitely useful," Mark thought as he took the book with interest. It was a historical account of the Shuriman Empire from ages past.
"Do you speak the desert tongue?" Swain asked, and Mark nodded.
"Good. Your task from now on is to help me learn this language, and if you perform well, you will become my future interpreter and diplomat," Swain stated firmly. Before Mark could respond, Swain handed him a series of papers, and the two began studying and translating the texts.
Mark was quite surprised that day. Although he was still somewhat nervous, he realized that Swain wasn't an evil being who could devour him at any moment. Swain often asked for his opinion on various topics he didn't know much about.
At this point, not only was Mark surprised by Swain, but Swain was equally intrigued by Mark. "This boy, despite being somewhat naive, has a solid worldview. Where did he come from?" Swain wondered and decided to test Mark with a question.
"Boy, after all this conversation, why do you think I'm studying the desert tongue?" Swain asked, and Mark froze for a moment, debating whether he should answer or not.
He knew why. Noxus was planning to invade the Shuriman coast to claim territory at the command of the mad King Darkwill, seeking treasures to prolong his life.
As Mark remembered, Swain was sent as the commander of this operation and achieved considerable success, but soon after, Darkwill ordered the invasion of Ionia, conspiring with the Black Rose to send Swain on a doomed campaign to kill him.
"I believe it is for an invasion, sir," Mark said, and Swain nodded with satisfaction before taking out a map that marked Noxian borders.
"Where do you think we should start the invasion?" Swain asked casually, and Mark thought for a moment.
"I believe we should first capture these two islands near the coast and establish an outpost before the frontal assault. Additionally, according to the documents we've reviewed, Shurima seems to consist mainly of separate tribes without a unified leader. The biggest challenge of this invasion would be the low return on resources for such an expensive campaign," Mark explained, using his modern knowledge, and Swain nodded approvingly.
"Indeed, this invasion doesn't seem profitable at first glance, but our objective isn't just to expand territory. We will deploy teams to seize tombs and treasures scattered across the desert," Swain said as the carriage slowly came to a stop.
"We'll continue this conversation another day. Speak with Sebas; he will show you your accommodations," Swain said, and soon both left the carriage.
Stepping outside, Mark observed the mansion where he would now live. In front of him was what appeared to be a small fortress, heavily guarded by soldiers and watchtowers. For a moment, Mark wondered if it was a prison rather than a mansion.
He took a deep breath, knowing that this would be the start of his journey in Runeterra, a journey to save this world doomed to destruction.